


Processing

by SageGarnish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcoholic Dean Winchester, Angst, Crying, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Hurt, M/M, Men Crying, Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Pre-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Spoilers for Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:15:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27653978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageGarnish/pseuds/SageGarnish
Summary: I needed to write something after that awful finale. More than anything else I wanted to see Dean’s response/reaction to Castiel’s confession. Can’t have nice shit in this house I guess, so I wrote my own.This is sort of from Sam’s point of view, and can be read as a coda for s15e19 or can ignore S15e20 entirely.Be warned, it is angsty. This is literally just Dean coming to terms with and admitting this stuff to someone else.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Processing

Sam was reading at the bunker table, and Dean was sitting off to one side silently drinking a beer.

They’d done it. They’d taken out Chuck. Jack was now, well... basically God.

And Cas was... gone. Dean refused to talk about it. Sam had ventured a few careful questions, but all Dean would say was variations of “He saved my life. He didn’t make it.” and then go cold and stony-faced. Sam had left it alone for a few days, but the amount of times Dean had woken up hungover was starting to worry him.

“Dean,” Sam started cautiously, “so when you got that call from Cass...”

Dean’s head whipped up at the mention of the angel.

“From Lucifer, you mean,” Dean sounded pissed.

Sam blinked and clenched his jaw. Closing his book, Sam stood and walked over to the table to join Dean.

“Yeah. When Lucifer pretended to be Cass,” Sam sat down across the table from Dean.

Dean was now back to avoiding eye contact and peeling at his beer bottle label.

“What about it?” Dean grumbled, “Lucifer was a dick. He’s dead now. Doesn’t matter.”

Sam smiled gently and said, “I guess... you ran up those stairs so fast I guess I sort of hoped you knew something I didn’t. Something about maybe... him having a chance? I guess?”

Dean was motionless, frozen staring down at his beer on the table.

Sam gently pressed the matter, “Was there? A chance he’s alive after all?”

Dean let out a horrific laugh, like a jangling bark of broken glass.

“A chance he’s... no Sammy, I’m just a... an idiot,” Dean replied, “He’s.. well there’s no way you come back from... that. Not now that Jack is ‘hands off’ or whatever he says.”

Sam’s face fell, “Sorry, Dean... I know you don’t like talking about it. I just wondered. You haven’t talked about that night at all. Which, like, I get it... but... he was my friend too.”

“Friend, hah,” Dean laughed poisonously, “yeah, we were all friends...” Dean’s voice cracked as he spoke the last word.

“Anyway,” Sam stood, “I was going to run out and grab some food. You want a burger?”

Dean visibly blinked back looming tears and attempted a watery smile.

“Sounds awesome, grab me some jerky too.”

Sam very politely pretended not to notice and stood up.

“Cool, see you in a bit,” Sam called out as he left.

When Sam got back Dean was in a cheerier mood. He put on an old movie and ate dinner with Sam, and it almost felt just like old times, but better.

Free and easy, without the weight of the world hanging over them. Dean seemed cheerful but Sam knew the deep sense of loss under the surface. But he enjoyed the night, and finally went to bed.

Sam punched his pillow gently and settled into bed, feeling thoughtful.

Something still unsettled him. Castiel’s mysterious death to the Empty, Lucifer’s phone call. He turned it over and over in his mind until sleep took him.

Sam’s dreams were fractured restless things, he wandered through images of old losses, old friends... old loves. He dreamed of Eileen, gripping him in passion, and as he leaned over and entered her, he was suddenly on top of Lucifer.  
Sam yelled in horror and shoved him away as Lucifer’s laughing face careened into the darkness. 

Sam woke up drenched in sweat and gasping.

“He’s dead... he’s dead...” Sam muttered softly to calm his racing heartbeat.

He lurched out of bed and stripped off his sweat soaked shirt. Still shaking from the terror of the dream, he walked out to the washroom.

Sam stood in the dim light and splashed water on his face. Staring into his own reflection, something clicked into place. Lucifer had interacted with him, had been within him. 

He knew the archangels’ tactics of choice. He’d appeared to Sam as Jess before. Sam’s haunting dream about Eileen had reminded him that when Lucifer appears, he always appears as the loved one you most wanted to see.

He preferred romantic partners. He’d once told Sam “it makes things so fun and spicy, don’t you think?”

Sam started going over the weird moments he’d encountered between Dean and Cass. Weird vibes, walking in on tense scenes. The way their arguments sometimes felt like breakups...

Sam shook his head slightly and laughed to himself. Lucifer probably just used the most believable option. Was there anyone like that in Dean’s life who would also show up at the bunker? No. 

Sam slunk back to his room quietly and got back into bed. As he drifted off, he still felt there was something he was missing.

The next couple of days drifted by. No jobs came in. It seemed that Jack had somewhat balanced the scale, at least for now. It was clear now that everyone from the other universes were still around.

Jody, Bobby and Donna had all called to check in. Sam and Dean gave them a brief version of the events that played out.

Sam called Eileen and had made some slightly flirtatious comments, testing the waters. He brought up the fact that now they know everything’s real, he’d be curious to see her again. She’d responded well. He had a date with her set up for Wednesday.

Dean had adopted that dog once he’d found there was no owner. So now Miracle ran around the bunker, and Dean was regularly going out for walks. Things were... almost good? Sam wanted nothing more than for everything to just be okay. Dean still seemed off.

Sam waited until they were in the Impala on their way to visit Jody. Then he broached the topic.

“Say, Dean?”

Dean reached over and turned down the music.

“What’s up, Sammy?” Dean replied, glancing sideways with a half grin.

“I was thinking,” Sam said, “About Lucifer.”

Dean tried to hide the dread that crept across his face, and then schooled his expression to a disdainful one.

“That dead asshole?” Dean scoffed, “Why bother? He’s gone now, can’t hurt you.”

Sam tried again, “No, he can’t, but I just... it was weird he chose to use Cass’ voice right?”

Dean kept his eyes on the road as his mouth tightened.

“Why’s that?” he spoke without emotion, tightly coiled.

“Well, Dean,” Sam insisted, “I got... well he was in my head, y’know? I know how he operates. I just... isn’t it weird he usually appears as romantic partners? Like.. for me it was Jess... even though I knew there was no way it could actually be her.”

“Hm,” Dean’s jaw muscle twitched.

“I just assumed that Cass was the most believable one to show up at the bunker,” Sam continued, “but he must have hated that. Like... he used to say it made things more spicy. He complained if the person didn’t have anyone like that, then it wasn’t worth fucking around in their skulls.”

Dean’s voice was gravelly as he said, “Well I wish he hadn’t fucked around in mine, then.”

With that, Dean reached over to the radio and turned the music back up.

Sam didn’t talk for the rest of the drive.

A week later they were having a screaming fight.

“Cut the crap, Dean!” Sam yelled at his brother. Dean was standing in the bunker kitchen taking swigs from a bottle of whiskey.

“Leave it alone,” Dean hissed, “we are not talking about it. Why are you so damn nosy, anyway?”

Sam could barely get words out, he was that furious.

“I thought we were going to be honest with eachother?” Sam yelled, “Why can’t you at least tell me what happened to Cass?”

“I told you!” Dean jabbed a finger in Sam’s direction, “Death was after us, we were trapped, he summoned the Empty, he-“

Dean paused here to gulp, “-died. That’s it, that’s the big story. I couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t... do anything.”

“Yeah, you told me that, but not the details. How did he get the Empty to come??? How can you even do that? And if he could, then why can’t we again?” Sam was worked up and ranting, “and get him back?”

Dean’s eyes were red and wet, and Sam could tell he was a hairs breadth from crying.

“We can’t, Sammy,” Dean’s voice broke, “He had a deal, we can’t just... call it up and ask it ‘hey can we have our angel back please?’”

“What was the deal?” Sam pushed.

And that was when Dean’s voice broke, “I can’t talk about this. I can’t.” 

Dean turned and stalked out of the room.

Sam let out an angry breath and slumped into a chair. 

The brothers avoided eachother the next morning. Dean brought back sandwiches for lunch when he came back from taking Miracle for a walk, and they both sat down and things slowly went back to normal.

Eileen came over for an afternoon visit. They’d watched TV and then retired to Sam’s room to cuddle, among other things. Laying in bed afterwards, Eileen smiled and said “I should probably go.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a drive,” Sam laughed, “I’ll see you out.”

Together they slowly crept through the darkened bunker and up the stairs.

Sam stood at the bunker door and kissed her goodbye.

He signed “I love you” and she blushed and signed it back.

The bunker door slammed shut and Sam walked down the steps. 

He started in shock to see Dean sitting on one of the chairs in the dark, drinking.

“Dean, shit, I didn’t see you there.”

Dean swing the bottle by the neck and slurred out, “Funny, what you don’t see...”

“Dean?” Sam was confused.

“Well not you, specifically, you as in people, you as in me. The things we don’t see,” Dean was rambling, eyes red and he’d clearly been crying.

“Are you okay?” Sam stepped closer to Dean and reached for the bottle, “Let’s... get you to bed.”

Dean was clearly at the end of his rope and he let Sam take the bottle, and ease him up from the chair.

He was relatively pliable as Sam manoeuvred him into the bed and pulled the covers up.

“Happiness,” Dean mumbled.

“What?” Sam kneeled beside the bed and leaned in close to hear.

“He... the deal was... for Jack’s life.. it was happiness. The moment he felt h-happy...” Dean broke off here into hiccuping sobs.

“I don’t understand,” Sam put one hand on Dean’s shoulder, “The deal was for Jack?”

“Sammy, you... gotta understand, I didn’t know,” Dean sounded frantic now, grabbing Sam’s wrist, “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, Dean,” Sam had no idea what his brother was saying, but he comforted him anyway, “You didn’t know.”

“The Empty,” Dean faltered, “Would come for him if he... felt... true happiness... he only took the deal cause... ugh, fuck...”

Dean gasped for air through sobs.

Sam was sitting, waiting. This was the moment, this is what Dean had been hiding for weeks. He could be patient.

In his most soothing voice, Sam repeated, “He only took the deal because?”

“Because he,” Dean closed his eyes, “He knew he’d never be h-happy. This... this whole time he’s not happy, c-can you believe that?”

Dean let out a shaky laugh and wiped the tears from his eyes.

Sam’s brows just pushed together in concern.

Dean’s voice was very small when he said, “He was in love with me.”

Sam, to his credit, stayed calm and didn’t show the shock in his face. It truly wasn’t that shocking, but the reality of it was a bombshell.

“Yeah?” Sam asked gently, “Did he tell you that?”

Dean nodded and looked angry as he rubbed the tears out of his eyes.

“And you, uh...” Sam looked for a polite way to phrase it, “said you feel the same way... and then he was happy? That’s what called the Empty?”

Dean sat up and started laughing in a way that sounded like a wail.

“That... no, Sammy, no.That idiot was so happy from... from just telling me, that it just... it just came. He threw me to the side before I could even speak and then he was just gone.”

Sam gazed at Dean in horror.

“I never even got to say anything,” Dean choked out, “he never even... and he’s gone.”

“Dean,” Sam’s voice was raw with sympathy for his brothers pain.

No wonder Dean had felt so guilty, been so off.

“I’m sure he knew how you felt,” Sam blurted out, awkwardly.

Deans face got more closed off then, and he slightly turned away.

“That’s the problem, I guess,” Dean muttered, “I... Sammy, I need sleep.”

Dean, as drunk and emotional as he was, wasn’t going to speak any more tonight. Sam cursed himself for his clumsy instinctual words and stood to leave.

“Night, Dean,” he said as he walked out of the room.

His only reply was his brothers muffled sobs.


End file.
